


Unfinished Pieces

by Junipher



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-02 22:27:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16313822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junipher/pseuds/Junipher





	1. A1 (Previous Life)

A returned one; a new one.

 

"Did we receive any new news from the messengers?" He looked around. The raven held back in the shadows. He had flown in many dangerous missions lately.

The raven had seen things that no one should see.

The raven knew much that he wasn't telling. She was going to keep a careful eye on him. Despite everything, she didn't quite trust his loyalties. One never knew the nature of his kind. Though he would never betray them.

She wondered how her father had acquired the loyalty of the raven. The raven had never exactly been forthcoming to her. She had had much curiosity about his missions in her youth. He stood now leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

She thought of the scar that she knew he had gotten on his back.

She wondered what her father's past with the raven was. And what the raven's secret name was.

There was no new news from the messengers, though the enemy had sent another useless note with a poison-sweet invitation.

Three of the messengers had gone radio silent. She wondered if any of them had turned to the enemy.

She didn't trust the raven. He wasn't a trustworthy person. Spend enough time in filth, and it rubs off on you.

Not to mention he didn't exactly come from the most reliable background.

She didn't know why her family had let him in. Normally they would never accept someone like him. She supposed that it was because of his special ... skills. Her father needed him. Her father used him to complete the tasks that no one else could complete.

But she rarely talked to the raven. He was extremely tight-lipped about his missions, and sometimes he simply gave her a silent stare, as if he couldn't speak at all. They exchanged nothing more than banal pleasantries.


	2. A2 (Introduction)

The night she arrived, Ryan stumbled in.

She hadn't recognized him, because she had never been introduced to him before.

At first, she didn't think it was a human who had entered, but rather some kind of cursed spirit. Ryan was bent over, his cloak hanging from him in tattered strips. There was barely an inch of him that wasn't covered in blood. He coughed wetly, and blood splattered onto the floor, staining the white tiles red.

Suddenly, the entrance hall was buzzing with activity. Five of the new arrivals wore the brown robes and teardrop-shaped insignia of the healer. She recognized the sixth: Tanriel.

Where Tanriel's face had been coldly closed during the day, it was now white with rage. _"What happened?"_ he bellowed. He tried to push past the healers to get to Ryan.

"Quick -- get him to the infirmary --" one of the healers said.

"No," Ryan gasped out suddenly, the exertion of speaking the one word showing on his face. "The king -- the king --"

Some of the healers seemed ready to protest, but the one who seemed to be in charge stopped them with a gesture. She nodded briskly, and helped support Ryan to walk down a hallway, while Tanriel followed behind.

Nothing about the scene surprised her at the time, but it would in the coming days. Once Ryan was out of his sickbed, she would come to see -- the two brothers seemed to  _hate_ each other.

 


	3. A3 (1st Battle)

They had gone into the wizard's castle. There was an elaborate Turkish design on the carpet. Her steps made no sound as she carefully made her way over the floor. It would be horrible if she were caught, here; they didn't even know how the wizard would react. Would he transform her into a frog?

There were elaborate decorations in the halls, including some historically notable artifacts. There was a smell of magical incense in the air, with a pumpkin mixed with pine-wood scent. The halls were dark. There was lots of dark velvet.

Many of the rooms didn't seem used. When she took a peek inside, they seemed to have a strange combination of furniture, that didn't seem to fit any particular use. And the rooms were decorated very eclectically.

It had been almost too easy to get in. It made her nervous. She heard that this wizard was a hermit and hated visitors. She had expected his home to be more guarded. But then again, they hadn't come to attack him, but to borrow a book. There were lots of bookshelves along the walls.

There was a painting that suddenly made her steps stop. She recognized the insignia on it from the book that Tyen had shown her, explaining the history behind their task. There was a strange twinkle of warmth in the person depicted in it's eye. The painting was painted in extravagant strokes, but the person was dressed soberly, wearing a black cloak.

The sound of voices in the doorway made her heart stop. She looked frantically behind her, but there was nowhere to go, and she quickly concealed herself behind a bookshelf. There was a male voice and a female voice. Both were calmly composed. The woman seemed to be dressed with a high degree of refinement.


	4. A4 (1st Reflection)

They had gone to a bar after the mission. The lights were dim in the bar. The fae liked to get really drunk. They took drinking seriously. And they had special alcohol, too. She still hadn't gotten used to their alcohol. The other patrons were mostly high-class people too. They were probably engaged in some business. They were here to celebrate. They were here to reflect after succeeding at their objective. Of course, it was only a battle, not the war.

"You know, you've surprised me," he said.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I thought you would be incompetent."

She laughed. "And I've been competent?"

"Well." He paused. "You've had more imagination than I expected."

She saw things differently from people who had been born there. It was sometimes an advantage in political situations. Though she knew she was only able to succeed because of the help of those who had more knowledge. Vell was more willing to help than Tanriel. Tanriel was talking nice to her now, but he hadn't really committed to her side. He might still back another heir. She wondered who posed the greatest threat to her right now. Shana was certainly the most competent, seemingly even more competent than her, and yet she was strangely reluctant to fight her directly for it.

If she had Tanriel's backing, she wondered if she would be invincible. But of course things weren't that simple. There were multiple factions that didn't like each other.

"I can promise you something now," he said.

"What?"

"Not my loyalty," he said. "But I can promise my help on this particular objective."

It was something meaningful. If he would at least see that through to the end, and if it aligned sufficiently with her goal, then it would be a big help. The question was what he would limit his help to.


	5. A5 (2nd Battle)

My heart leapt into my throat as I chanced upon the mirror.

Its surface rippled, like the surface of a deep lake. It seemed to have fathomless depths, and there was the vague scent of oil coming off of it, as well as something that seemed like rotted wood. I could hear a low sound coming from it, like a forlorn song.

I couldn't believe that I'd actually found it. My heart felt giddy with excitement. What Oswalda wanted...

Wait a second. My thoughts sharpened, separated into layers like fog abandoning a riverbank, like the mist evaporating in the late morning. I could deliver this mirror back to Oswalda, or I could...

Could this mirror really tell me where my brother was?

Oswalda would never let me use it. I knew that. She had very strict ideas of what magic could and couldn't be used for, and in this case she would say it was a human crime that had led Owen to be exiled, one that the gods would not look kindly upon us for trying to undo.

Oswalda had ordered me to bring back the mirror immediately. But I bit my lip. There was so much artistic value to the mirror; surely if I asked it just one or two boons, that wouldn't sap its power in any noticeable way?

Didn't I deserve that, at least, for the life I had put in harm's way to retrieve it?

Oswalda would think that not censuring me would be reward enough. But honestly, I tired of life at the monastery. Besides, I was starting to question the philosophy it followed, whether that was really the best for the world. Surely the world needed a little more color...? The monastery wanted to turn everything to hard silver.

I remembered the trickster god, who had appeared in my dreams, just once. A conjuring of my subconscious, or a divine omen? I appealed to the world for a sign.


	6. A6 (2nd Reflection)

She gathered her cloaks about herself, and walked further into the snow. The cold bit into her with the fury of a snarling wolf. In fact, she would have taken the wolf. Her lone line of footsteps stretched behind her, the only prints to be seen in the field of snow in any direction.

She couldn't even see any ice wraiths around, thank goodness. The field looked deserted.

At least it wasn't snowing, thank the gods. If hail were falling, lashing her face, then she didn't know if she could bear it. As it was, she tried to focus on her meditation skills, remembering what the Master had taught her.

"You are not where you are," he had intoned. "Where you are is you."

She tried to remember that lesson.

 _You are not where you are_ , she chanted to herself. _Where you are is you. You are not where you are. Where you are is you..._

Her foot slipped, and she crashed into the ice. She cursed, invoking the name of every god she could think of, though bringing the wrath of a god upon her was the last thing she could use right now. Then, her eye sharpened. There was something hidden under the ice. What was it?


	7. A7 (3rd Battle)

I stumbled upon the lost city.

My senses were on full alert. Something was wrong about this place. There should have been someone here to greet me. They were expecting me, weren't they? Or at least they had received word ahead of time that I would be coming.

I was expecting the monks to be there, but the place was empty. My sandals stirred up dust that seemed untrodden for many days.

What had happened here?

The city itself seemed fine. It was just quiet, almost a dozing kind of peace. I knew the High Monk was expecting me. If he wasn't here, then I didn't know who to go to for help. The situation would turn sticky. Only he had the knowledge, and the items, that I needed.

The monks kept many historical artifacts, after all, even after others had deemed them useless, simply pretty relics that cost too much to maintain. But the High Monk didn't see it that way.

Why was there no activity here? It was strange. I had expected someone to come out to welcome me.

I crossed the threshold. The hairs on the back of my neck rose in apprehension. I didn't like this empty place. The buildings were still well-maintained. It seemed like people were living here. If I were to complete Oswalda's quest, then I would need the information that these people had, and I didn't dare go back to Oswalda with failure.

She wasn't someone who took failure kindly. I shivered.

The High Monk was supposed to be a kindly, benevolent figure, someone I would rather run to for protection, in comparison. And yet I couldn't help feeling a sense of unease. Was he scheming against me in some way? Was this some kind of trick? Was there danger here? Perhaps he had had a falling out with the Night Order? I wished Oswalda told me more than the bare minimum.


	8. A8 (3rd Reflection)

Valmore smiled wryly, a small, sad smile. "I should've seen it coming," he said. "It didn't make sense that he would really like me."

She blinked at him in surprise.

"What?" Valmore laughed. "I've never thought that I was anything special," he said. "I'm constantly amazed that any of my friends want to be friends with me."

And that was the kind of statement that made him dangerous, Alex thought, furrowing her brow.

"Well, I'm sure I couldn't hold a candle to any of your friends," Alex said lightly. "I'm sure they're amazing people."

"Oh, no," Valmore said. He tilted his head and considered Alex. "You... you have the courage to believe in yourself even when you shouldn't be there," he said.

She laughed. "Like I shouldn't be here now?"

He smiled. "I guess that depends on whether you can win."

She glanced at the picnic foods he'd prepared. "So these are, like, traditional Hanike foods?"

"Mostly," he said. "Yeah, I selected the best of we have. And a few Polun foods here, because I like them."

"Have you been to the Polun territory?" she asked, curious.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "In my wild teenage years, when I was trying to run away from the family, I spent time in several different places."

"Was that before or after the Cheshire Forest?"

"Before," he said.

Alex scrutinized him. "Should I be concerned that you might be mad?" she asked.

He laughed. "I guess that'll be up to your judgment," he said. "What do you think?"

She frowned. "In some ways I think the rest of the family is more mad than you are," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Like Vell?" he asked.

She frowned. "No. Vell has been one of the most normal-seeming people I've met here," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be fooled by appearances," he said enigmatically. "I would say I'm the most normal person you've met here. "


	9. A9 (Final Battle)

I was imprisoned in the enemy's castle.

The enemy smiled at me, amused. "You and me... we're not so different, after all," she said finally.

"I'm nothing like you," I hissed.

"Oh, really?" She smiled. "Your fae friends. Do you think they'll really accept you? You're not really one of them... you haven't accepted their ways. You'll never see the world the way they do."

"Why does that matter?"

"Let me tell you a story," she said. "Once, there was a little girl who lived in a village... and she had a big dream."

I wondered who the Shadow lady really was. What she really wanted. Surely she wasn't the stereotype that we'd made her out to be.

She snapped her fingers, and one of her minions came running to her. "You called, lady?" There seemed to be a veiled rebellion hidden in his eyes.

"Yes. What belongings did this one carry with her?"

"She had this coin in her backpack." He pulled it out.

I considered the Shadow lady's personality. She had an undeniable refinement. She carried her silks about her. And there was certainly a danger, a strength about her.

"I'm nothing like you," I spat.

She smiled, amused. "Oh, really?"

"Consider what you've been doing for the past few months... what your instincts were when you arrived here."

I thought about this. I had immediately had the instinct to betray Rei, though he hadn't done anything to me at the time (he had soon enough). And the raven...

I wondered what the raven's connection with the Shadow lady was.

The Shadow lady's room was opulent. Light danced along the walls, shining with a low warmth that seemed radiate a low, sultry heat. Everything spoke to indulgence.

"And shouldn't we indulge now and then? The fae are so... frigid," she said.

"The fae are responsible," I said stiffly.

"Have you ever wondered why I'm the last of my kind?" she laughed a teasing smile, her tongue tucked between her lips.

"Because you killed all the others?" I said sarcastically.

She smiled.


	10. A10 (After)

The heir sighed. All of this mess would be hers to inherit, and she was tired of this bullcrap. She wished people could just work together, and not squabble over petty squabbles where nothing was at stake, just to have some amusement. Of course, the lives of those who weren't important would be lost. But the court cared little about that.

Her father -- she had never really figured out his alignment.

He served Vana, of course, she knew that. She had never really communed with Vana herself. The Goddesses were dangerous figures to get involved with -- it was better to live a mortal life, to keep oneself to mortal concerns, rather than becoming a pawn in the struggle of greater powers. Nothing good came of that.

Of course, it was hard to keep one to one's own concerns when one was a princess.

Ryker helped her with that, though. He distracted her. He brought her into his little schemes that were just fun. She sorely needed that relief. Without it, she thought she might've gone mad. Court politics had never appealed to her. She just wanted to get things done. She smiled, thinking of the last little trick that she and Ryker had gotten involved in. The merchants in the market hadn't been too happy about that one. But of course, she had been careful to protect her identity.

"We have a bigger problem than that. What if he manages to extract information from them?" he argued.

"What do they know?" Her eyes widened, not having considered this possibility.

"I'm not concerned about most of them, but their leader... he might've figured some things out," she admitted. She remembered the fierce look in his eye the last time she had talked to him.

"Brief us on the nature of this mission," he said.


End file.
